Page 39 of Kingdom of Dance

Remembering the king’s earlier instructions, Obsidian did so without bowing.

“I trust you won’t mind if I don’t call for refreshments,” said King Basil, without looking up. “It’s too soon after breakfast to seem necessary.”

Obsidian nodded, not feeling in the least hungry. He glanced around the room, taking in the ocean view which seemed to be a prominent feature of most important rooms in the long narrow castle.

“It’s a little sparse, I know,” said King Basil. “But not being an overfed noble, I trust you won’t be troubled by that.”

Obsidian smiled. “I hadn’t even noticed it, Your Majesty.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” grinned King Basil. “To tell the truth, I’ve stopped meeting my nobles in here. It’s too tedious putting up with their offense on my behalf when they see I’ve gotten rid of the tapestries and the paintings.” His voice turned dry. “And the solid gold paperweights.”

“You didn’t care for them?” Obsidian asked curiously.

The young king shrugged. “I had no opinion either way. But the value they represented was better used elsewhere.”

Obsidian couldn’t help frowning, and King Basil clearly caught the expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re affronted at the slight to my consequence after all?” he asked humorously.

“Of course not, Your Majesty,” said Obsidian quickly. “I just thought the kingdom was more prosperous than ever, thanks to the mines.”

“Yes, we’re in good state,” said King Basil distractedly, once again sorting through papers on his desk. “But I have better use for the kingdom’s resources than fancy furnishings. Such as offering compensation to all those who lost property or loved ones in a needless war.”

“Yes, I was offered some of that compensation,” Obsidian commented.

King Basil looked up at last, his eyes locking on Obsidian’s. “You didn’t accept it.”

It wasn’t a question. Clearly the king had done his research before inviting the young soldier and enchanter to sit at his family’s table.

“No, Your Majesty.”

“And why was that, Lieutenant?”

Obsidian kept his face impassive. “Because I still have strength enough to provide for myself and my mother. I don’t need any handouts.”

“More than strength enough, I would think,” said the king mildly. “Thanks to your magic.”

“I don’t need magic to get by,” Obsidian said flatly.

“Most people aspire to do more than simply get by,” the king pointed out.

Obsidian gave no response.

With a small sigh, King Basil shifted back in his chair. “Let’s talk about Zinnia. You followed her this morning?”

“Yes,” said Obsidian, his heart speeding up a little at the memory of what he’d witnessed. Being present for the princess’s tears had been uncomfortable enough. Describing it to her brother was probably going to be even worse.

“And?” King Basil prompted. “What was she up to? It’s not like her to rush out like that, or to go back to bed once she’s up.”

“She didn’t go back to bed,” Obsidian told him. The king raised an impatient eyebrow, and Obsidian forced himself to continue. “I followed her clandestinely as she left the castle, heading for the shore path. She lied to her guards about needing to relieve herself and slipped off.”

“So far I’m unsurprised,” said King Basil dryly, but with a hint of humor. Clearly he knew his sister well.

“I followed her, and, well…” Obsidian grimaced internally. “I miscalculated, to be honest. I didn’t realize I was so close to her, and I happened upon her hiding place.”

“Hiding place?” the king asked sharply. “What was she doing?”

Obsidian hesitated, but there was really no way to say it other than to just say it. “She was crying, Your Majesty.”